


All To Ourselves

by HigherMagic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-24 08:29:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/937824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HigherMagic/pseuds/HigherMagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> Cas is one-hundred-ten percent in love with his girlfriend. She's perfect for him and he's probably gonna marry her someday. But there's this new kid in town, and Cas can't stop thinking about him. Luckily, neither can Meg.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All To Ourselves

**Author's Note:**

>  Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.

Cas loves his little wildcat.

She's got everything he could ever want. She's a bitch, witty to the point of just being cruel with it, taunts those she doesn't like (who happen to fall in line with who Castiel doesn't happen to like either), but loyal as a dog to those she finds worthy of her attention. She's dirty, kinky as fuck and Cas likes that about her – utterly shameless and a sex drive to give his a run for its money (at _least_ four times a day. At _least_. And they're working their way through every room in the school).

And he knows her pretty well by now. Knows just when she is in the mood that any attempt by him to interact with her will unhinge her jaw and have him swallowed whole and when just the right touch can get her purring like a kitten. He's the only guy she lets sleep over at her parents' house.

He's probably gonna marry her someday.

  
  
  


His name is Dean Winchester. Dean motherfucking cock-and-swagger blowjob-lips jewel-eyes leather-jacketed Winchester. Cas can't get him out of his head. Fucking new kid with a fucking hero complex for his little brother. Cas had seen him defend the kid against the bullies, threaten to hurt any and everyone who went after the kid – Sam? Maybe Sam.

Point was Cas might have a little thing for the idiot macho twink trying to be a man. He's not even looked at another guy or girl since he and his girl started seeing each other naked. He loves Meg Masters, but God damn it that fucking boy and his stupid car that looks like a transformer had sex with a jaguar…fuck: Cas would do horrible things to that boy in the back of his car.

  
  
  


"Why don't you just fuck him?"

They're in the second grade classroom after school – Mrs Foley is on maternity leave and even though the substitute is meant to stay behind in case the parents have any questions or concerns she's barely older than Cas and Meg are and still trying to have a social life and her job at the same time so she always cuts out early. They're on the mat that looks like a hopscotch kids use to try and learn math and the thick, dotted rubber chafes against Cas' palms – he's glad they were in too much hurry for Meg to get her shirt off. Don't want his wildcat bitching at him for roughing her up too much.

"We can both do it," she hisses out, nails raking sharp and hot down his back as he growls, rutting forward until he's as deep as he can get into her – she's clenching down on him deliberately, feels like his cock is fucking suffocating in her, and she's sloppy wet, sore so they'd used extra lube to get him in. "Tie him down and you can fuck him while I ride that pretty face."

 _"Fuck_." Damn this girl. Definitely gonna marry her. He tilts his head, bares his teeth against her shoulder under her shirt – she'll let him bite through the material if he has to. They're squeaking along the rubber mat and leaving one hell of a wet spot and the room stinks of sex and he just can't care – the image of that boy, forced down on his back and tied to a bed or the desks of the classroom with Meg shoving her shaved pussy down onto his face, making his swollen lips shiny and slick with her while Cas sees what pretty noises that mouth can make – has him stuttering inside of her, needing to stop before he shoots off without warning.

One thing he does know is that if he comes before she does he'll have a lot of making up to do for it.

"Come on, baby," she bites out, finding the sensitive spot at the base of his spine and clawing hard, arching her hips up to get him deeper, and he breathes in the scent coming off her hair and tries to hold on. His hands find her hips and tilt her for a better angle, rutting upward to try and get her off. "I know you want a piece of that pretty, tight ass."

"I've had your ass before," he argues, swallowing back the throb of desire – wonders if Dean's ever even taken a cock before. He seems to like the ladies well enough; maybe he's not even gay. That's okay. Won't be the first pussy-chaser Cas has turned. But the idea of seeing Dean strung out, flushed and panting and coming from his cock alone is a hard one to get out of his head. "Too much prep, too much effort. I like just being able to sink into you, baby."

He starts thrusting again just to emphasize, shoves back onto his knees and lifts her legs, putting them together and over one of his shoulders. It tightens her up and lets him thrust at just the right angle inside of her, has her purring on the end of his dick before he can say 'You like that?'. Also means she can't claw at him anymore – gives him a better chance of lasting.

She arches her back, mouth tightening in a way that means she's close, eyes clenched tightly shut – her breathing is getting quiet and shaky like he knows it does right before she comes, thighs tense and tight, toes curling, mouth open. It's going to be a big one.

He smirks, licks at his thumb and forefinger, and reaches down to pinch and rub her clit. Rough, just how she likes it – if he doesn't leave bruises he's in almost as much trouble as when he comes first. His other hand digs in tight to her thigh when he feels her tensing up, first dregs of orgasm hitting her hard, and he ruts in, fucks her through it, nails scratching down her skin. Might break it. Might leave a lot of marks today just to see her walk funny.

She cries out his name – God he loves hearing it too – head tossing to one side, hair falling out of its braid and leaving fly-aways against the ugly red rubber mat, and he lets her legs drop, fucks in between her thighs 'cause he likes how they tense up around him, how her ankles hook and keep him close and he knots a hand in her hair and kisses her, hard, tongue sliding in and curling around her as he fucks her through it.

He doesn't have a lot of time – she gets tired after the big ones and less likely to purr for him when he keeps going. But that doesn’t matter. He knows others ways to get her to arch and mewl for him.

It's a delicate business, handling Meg after sex, but he's gotten good at it. He pulls out roughly, enough to make her hiss and lift her head, eyes flashing to demand what the actual fuck he thinks he's doing, but he's a step ahead, palms flattening on her thighs and dipping his head down to lick at her. Fuck, yeah, there she goes, head dropping back, breath escaping in a soft whoosh of air. Her fingers curl into his hair, loose at first, knows they'll tighten when he hits the right spot.

His hands are there to spread her open, give his tongue enough room that he can lick inside, pointed, curling, until he feels her shiver, warm thighs bracketing his head. Fuck, he loves licking her out, knows he can probably make her come again with just his tongue and his finger rubbing steady circles against her clit, make her sloppy-wet with his spit until he can fuck back in again and come inside her. Best decision they ever made, going on the pill.

Maybe Dean will like licking her out too – she's responsive enough, vocal when she wants to be, demanding when she is, as Cas affectionately calls it, 'in heat' – that one week a month right in the middle of her now-pill-stopped periods where that four times a day will leap up to maybe six or seven if Cas can get it up enough.

She can get toppy as fuck at that time of the month and Cas can't fucking wait. He moans at the thought, eyes closing, head tilting so he can lick deeper into her, and she's shaking again, thighs tightening around his head so he can't hear a damn thing but he can feel her soft moans under the hand pressed against her stomach, now, keeping her hips down as he curls his tongue into her – wants to feel her come again, and again, could do this forever if they had the time and if his cock wasn't aching to get back inside of her, feel the greedy warm clench of her body.

He leans back again just as he feels her start to tighten, new slick leaking out for him to taste, and slants his mouth across hers, forces her to taste herself in his mouth as he grips her ass, tilts her hips for the perfect slide in and fucks her through her second orgasm – she's tight, fuck, he has no idea how she does that with how often they go at it, but it's too much for him, especially when he can hear her purring against his bared throat and then her teeth are out and she's biting, sucking yet another hickey onto his sun-darkened skin for all to see.

"Fuck, Meg, baby – _fuck_." He can't say another fucking word, his orgasm hitting him like a punch to the gut as he bends over her, grinds her hips as close to his as he can get, and comes, feels another kind of wet adding to her and it's so _dirty,_ knows it'll just leak back out of her and he can't wait to see it stain her underwear when he pulls them off to go again. His nails dig into the soft flesh of her ass, just to hear her hiss and bite at him again, this time on the jaw, teeth against bone and it hurts, he knows it'll bruise – the pain combines with the sensation of his orgasm and makes him jerk on top of her, flinch and breathe hard through his nose against her hair.

He can feel her laugh when he finally softens, pulling out gently this time so he doesn't hurt her, and crawls back just a little so his weight over her body doesn't obstruct her breathing, until he's braced on his elbows over her stomach and his head rests against her breasts. Her fingers card through his hair, just a little scratch of nail and yeah, that feels nice. "I think you like the idea, baby," she murmurs after a moment, sounding just as fucked-out and sleepy as he feels, and he lifts his head, blinks. "Both of us. Dean Winchester. Wanna ruin someone today?"

And she's smirking, this dangerous light in her eyes like when she shoved Cas down onto his back for the first time and rode him until he was begging her to let him come, and yeah, he's definitely gonna marry this girl.

  
  
  


His name is Castiel Novak, and Dean has no idea what to make of him.

He's not very big, or buff – doesn't hang out with the jock crowd, almost looks like the bookish kind of kid one would see being slammed against the lockers or dumped into trash cans, but no, students part around him and what Dean assumes can only be his girlfriend like the red sea. They walk around the school like they own it and as long as no one gets pissy anyone can do whatever the hell they want. They're not arrogant, not from what Dean's seen or heard.

He's got this quiet kind of power, and the most intense pair of blue eyes Dean thinks he's ever seen. He walks down the halls, arm slung over the shoulders of one Meg Masters, their fingers linked up as she lifts her hand to hold his, and people just go running if they're doing something shitty, even the dicks who'd threatened to knock Sam around and bully him. Without a word. They're not ignored, but they're not challenged either.

Dean is intrigued.

It starts in the corridors – Dean's getting books out for his next lesson and contemplating skipping because it's fucking algebra and who has time for numbers trying to be letters or whatever, and the pair are a little way down, talking to other people – females, seniors, he presumes some of Meg's friends or whatever because Castiel doesn't seem to be paying much attention, his eyes wandering until they, coincidentally, lock with Dean's, who might have happened to be staring.

And then he _had smirked,_ like he knew exactly what Dean was thinking. Like he could just take one look at Dean and know everything about him. He didn't blink – just watched, eyes darting over every part of Dean's face and Dean had been backing off before he'd even thought about it.

Defending Sam was a lot easier than defending himself.

Flustered, on edge, maybe Dean had thought about those blue eyes that night in the shower. And his mouth too – chapped lips, rough drag of teeth down his chest, long-fingered hands splaying wide. Dark hair knotted between his fingers and the hiss when he pulled too tightly. Yeah, maybe he'd thought about that a lot.

It happened again in English class – they shared it. One class where it was just Castiel without his girlfriend. He was on edge, sharp, sitting close to Dean at the back of the classroom and barely paying attention to the class, if the constant drumming of his pencil against the desk and the way he kept watching Dean was any indication. Dean felt like a cornered animal being baited and he didn't know what to do.

He doesn't know what changed between one day and the next, when Castiel and Meg approach him directly, stinking of sex, Castiel with a large fresh hickey on his neck and both of them looking flushed and bright-eyed. Wouldn't take a genius to figure out what they'd just been doing.

"Hello, Dean," Cas says by way of greeting, like they've already been introduced beforehand, and Dean swallows, eyes flicking between the two of them. They look like wolves and he feels a little bit like a cornered animal.

Castiel's head tilts to one side, then, this look in his eyes like he just wants to eat Dean alive as his smile widens, and then there are two sets of fingers hooking into the pockets of his leather jacket and Dean's being pulled along between them. He resists, at first, shoulders tensed and turned down and fingers curling into fists, ready to defend himself, when he feels the first rasp of sharp stubble against his neck and a warm voice whispering into his ear;

"Relax." Dean shivers, eyelids fluttering – that voice. Only ever heard Cas talk in class and he's never sounded so Goddamn _dark_ , like rich chocolate spiked with rum and another hand is dragging down his arm, another digging under his shirt and scratching up his back and he's not sure who's touching him where but the hairs on the back of his neck are standing up and his legs feel weak. "We just wanna show you a good time."

"You up for it, Winchester?" Meg's voice, then, less smooth, growly like the purr of a jungle cat and Dean shivers again, reopens his eyes to find her staring up at him, all bitten lower lip and wide pupils so dark they almost eclipse her eye and Dean can see his reflection in them. Nails scratch over his scalp and he feels like he might just collapse right here in the hallway. "We'll give you the ride of your life. Promise."

Then Cas laughs, teeth bared against the back of Dean's neck, biting down, and all he can do is nod, because hell yeah, he can get behind a wild ride.

  
  
  


So. Goddamn. Easy.

Dean Winchester might not bite as hard as he barks, but he puts up an interesting resistance. Hesitating every step of the way like a Goddamn virgin until Cas had finally bitten the back of his neck, low snarl against his skin to man the fuck up before they get bored of him.

Boy likes taking orders. Can rise to the occasion like a fucking champ, too, if the way Meg's biting back her loud moans are anything to go by. Dean had just fucking went for her, maybe sensing her receptiveness over Castiel's, and damn, Cas could watch Dean make out with Meg all fucking day – she's in her toppy week, all hard grabs and low hisses and sharp teeth sinking into Dean's lower lip, and Dean just ducks his shoulders and crowds close to her, hands splaying across the backs of her thighs and lifting her up onto a desk so he can stand between her legs, and yeah, yeah that's perfect because Cas can just slide in behind him, find the spurs of his hipbones to grab onto and Dean just rolls his hips back onto Castiel's hardening cock and damn it, good boy, earns him another hard bite to the back of his neck.

And Dean lets out this little sound against Meg's mouth when he does that, like a low whine bitten back behind his teeth, and Cas snarls, grabs harder, _bites_ harder just to hear him do that again, until his shoulders tense up from pain under his clothes and his entire spine bows to get away.

His nails are digging into the edges of the desk as he leans forward, lets Meg's legs wrap around the both of them to keep them in close, and Cas uses the opportunity to drag his hands under Dean's clothes and start pulling them off. The jacket goes first, down off his shoulders and arms and Cas tosses it to one side, barely sparing a second before he's pulling the shirt up, Meg helping, Dean just sandwiched between them and submitting to their greedy touch, nails dragging and biting down on freckled skin and Meg finds her favorite spot, right where back meets neck and it's a fine line between pain and pleasure, and her nails dig in, Cas can see them, white lines in his neck and Dean hisses, ducks his head to kiss along her jaw and their eyes meet over his shoulder.

Meg is smirking wide and Cas can't help himself – he leans forward, kisses her hard and deep, bites her lower lip just to hear her gasp. "I fucking love you," he half-growls, half-whispers, just to see her smile wider before he pulls back enough to let Dean have some room and, as he knew she would, watches Meg yank down hard enough to send Dean to his knees between her spread legs.

To his credit, the boy doesn't even hesitate, and thank God Meg is wearing a skirt today because all it takes is a shift for his fingers to drag her panties to one side, hoist her skirt up to her hips, and go to town.

And go to town he does – Castiel can feel his enthusiasm from here, can see the tremble in the tendon connecting Meg's thighs to her hips as she clenches up, resting her legs on Dean's shoulders, winding her fingers into his too-short hair.

"Oh," she gasps out, impressed with whatever Dean is doing, rutting her hips forward into his face. It's wet, sounds fucking filthy, Cas can imagine his tongue flattening over her entrance, tasting the salt-and-clean flavor of her, probably still stinks of Castiel's come as well and he's alright with that. So is Dean if his soft moan is any indication. "Oh, _fuck_."

"He good, baby?" Cas asks, like this is a present for her as much as him, and she whimpers softly, for effect he's sure, as Dean's jewel-colored eyes flash upwards to see her face. His fingers are digging into her thighs, not touching, not yet, and that's nice – "Tease her, Dean, she likes it when you tease."

Meg's eyes flash – wrong, so wrong, he knows it and he laughs to himself for knowing it – but Dean obeys, sucks dirty-wet around her clit hard enough to make her bite back a scream, her thighs shaking. Fuck, that's a nice sight. Castiel steps closer, takes a hold of her hair in his fist and tugs her into a kiss, fucks her mouth with his tongue and he's standing behind Dean, knows the boy can feel him, his hard-on just pressing into the back of Dean's head when he pulls back, but he doesn't stop; testing the water, Cas wants to see if Dean will bolt at the feeling of a cock.

Not in the slightest. _Yes._

Meg's already close, Cas can tell by the shake in her breathing and the way her moans are getting a little more high-pitched, a little more frantic like she's trying to run, to get away. She's going to come and soon. "Use your fingers," he whispers, crouching down behind Dean, whispering in his ear just to see him shiver. From here, he can watch as Dean obeys, one finger sliding into her, slick and easy like she's anything but tight on the inside. Cas knows, though, knows exactly how tight her pussy clenches when she's coming. "Another. Fuck her like you mean it, Dean," he growls, and Dean bites his lip, cheeks flushing a little from heat, he's fucking beautiful, licking his slick mouth as he slides another finger in, goes back to tonguing at her swollen clit until Meg's cries are loud and uninhibited, until her legs clench tight around Dean's head and her nails dig in sharply. "There we go, baby, that's it, so good for me," Cas whispers, smiling, and he's not quite sure which of them he's talking to at this point, but it doesn't matter with Meg moaning like she's getting paid and Dean's mouth has gone back to lapping at her, her clit too sensitive now to withstand it, and he's probably tasting all of her slick now, new and dripping from her orgasm.

Castiel growls and reaches forward, grabbing Dean's shoulders and yanking him back, turning him around in one movement so he's on his ass on the floor, and it's easy then to straddle him and claim his mouth, his hands replacing where Meg's were on the boy's head. Dean melts into him, all soft lips and giving mouth and he tilts his head back so nicely when Castiel presses a hand to his throat, tilts him to the better angle, and rolls his hips just to feel Dean gasp into his mouth.

He pulls back, just for a second, dark blue eyes taking in every detail of the boy's face – his flushed cheeks, wild eyes, swollen mouth and ruffled hair. He looks _messy_ , and it's one of the most gorgeous things Castiel has ever seen.

"So fuckin' _pretty,_ " he growls, then dives in for another taste, licking his girlfriend's taste from Dean's mouth while the boy shivers and moans under him, hips rolling up in a demanding grind, erection pressing tight and hot to the underside of Castiel's thigh, and yeah, the boy's earned it, earned the right to grab Castiel like he owns him and rut against him until he comes in his pants like he's thirteen years old.

Castiel kisses and bites down Dean's bare shoulder and neck while the boy comes down from his high, sucking a very dark mark onto his neck just too high for a shirt to cover, and when Dean blinks and his eyes focus, Cas makes sure their eyes are locked when he smiles, and stands.

"Thanks for the ride, baby," he says, voice dark and low – he's still horny as fuck and he can see Meg's fingers start to drift down between her own legs and he's aching to get inside of her, fuck her until she can't walk straight. "You can go."

Dean swallows, looking between them. He looks like a fucking mess. _We did that,_ Castiel thinks. Yes. "I wanna watch," he says instead of just quietly acquiescing. So he does speak. His tone is challenging, no hesitation from before now and damn it – Castiel wants to break him open, see what other kind of arrogant and impetuous secrets he might be hiding.

Castiel smirks wide and Meg laughs to herself. "Let's keep him," she coos, grinning.

Yes, Castiel thinks as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly, just far enough to pull his cock out and bury it inside her as Dean watches on, he's definitely gonna marry this girl.

  
  



End file.
